


Sunrise, Sunset

by DesireeArmfeldt



Series: An Exploration Long Delayed [4]
Category: due South
Genre: Angst, Community: ds_snippets | dsc6dsnippets, Estrangement, M/M, POV Third Person Limited, Post-Canon, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 04:49:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2335904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesireeArmfeldt/pseuds/DesireeArmfeldt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fraser and a wedding invitation.  (Timestamp/prequel for Tardiest Explorers.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunrise, Sunset

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to [ds-snippets](http://ds-snippets.livejournal.com) for the prompts "break" and "choice."

The cream-and-red card glitters incongruously on the wooden table.  Fraser doesn’t look at it as he goes about his business: starting the fire, feeding Dief, fixing dinner, oiling boots and guns.  There’s no need.  He knows what it says.

_Please join Stanley Raymond Kowalski and Marie Rose O’Malley to celebrate their wedding at 3:00 p.m. on Saturday, November 4, 2000.  Party to follow at. . ._

It arrived three months ago.  A courteous amount of warning, especially for a wedding not long in the planning.  Enough time for Fraser to have arranged leave, plane tickets, a place to stay in Chicago.  No personal note, but then, why should there have been?

_Ray, are you sure. . . ?_

Three months is plenty of time to think.  Time to imagine the din of Chicago; Ray in a dark suit, flushed and beaming; an awkward handshake, or a friendly embrace, or just an exchange of quiet smiles.  Time to regret that last unfortunate phone conversation.

_I’m sure she’s a delightful woman, but. . ._

Even in Chicago, where the autumn days are a little longer, the sun will have set by now.  Probably Ray and his bride—his wife—will still be making merry with their friends.  In an hour or two, perhaps, they’ll slip away from the party and make their way home, or to a hotel suite rented for the occasion.

_Aren’t you being a trifle hasty. . . ?_

In the end, he never did reply to the invitation.  As long as he didn’t send his regrets, there was always the possibility of going.

_Fraser, I think she’s it for me. . ._

He turns the invitation over in his hands, then tosses it into the woodstove, buying another moment of heat for the cabin.  Waste not, want not.


End file.
